Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1887-03-18

ly realize the fact OF his escape. All
that had happened TO h III since the
previous evening seemed like an un-
pleasant dream. The men in the field
remarked that he was whole hour
late-something before unheard Of
and that he did not talk as usual. At
ten o'clock DR.. Beard horse and bug
gy dashed up the road and halted OPP
posite the field where they were all at
work. Mr.. Seymour went instantly
out to tho road, with premonition
that he was urgently wanted. 1t was
even so. The m essenger told him that
at Oldiield Crossing, an hour before,
tramp had tried to catch a ride on a
freight train; that he had fallen under
the wheels, and was now dying, with
both legs crushed; and that he had
begged the doctor to send at once for
Wellington Seymour, for he could not
die without seeing him.
Mr.. Seymour waited not an instant;
not even to put on his coat which he
had left back in the field. He took his
seat in the buggy, and in thirty min
utes the fleet animal had brought him
to the station. An excited crowd
blocked the entrance to the freight
house. Doctor Beard and several 9TH
ers came forward as Mr.. Seymour
stepped to the ground.
III
the doctor. Il sent for you, because
he calls for You all the time-and he
seems TO be in his right mind. too.
Who do you think he s?'
He is my BROTHER said Mr. Sey-
mour.
The crowd fell back as he advanced,
and in n moment he and the doctor
were alone with the dying tramp. A
sheet had been thrown over h ; mangled
limbs. His fading eyes lighted as he
saw Mr.. Seymour by his side, and he
held out his hand to him.
you didn't know me last night,
Wellington" he said.
mo, Winteld-not surely; but 1 sus-
pected. Why didn't YOU tell newly
not speak out9
"And make YOU miserable?-you. and
your wife, and that dear child, whose
face is so like our mothers! Is she not
like her. Wcllington?'
"She is. indeed; but
Wait; hear me. These are my last
moments, brother; let me talk. Do
YOU remember those old days. when
father and mother and you and ! were
so happy there at the old homestead?
! OF course YOU do You were ten years
Younger than /, and little wild, be
cause you were a boy; and father made
his will, leaving everything to me, but
charging me to be kind to you. And
how things have changed! became the
wanderer the sea-farer. and at last the
tramp; YOU stayed at home. and when
father died-when did he die, yelling
TOM"
Three months after you went away.
He died suddenly. and never altered the
will
Yes. yes; | remember All this
learned at LennoX, yesterday; | saw the
record of the will, aud learned that you
had all the property. because | wa.
held to be dead. and YOU were my sol,
heir. Last evening came to YOU with
nv heart full OF bitterness. | mean,
to turn YOU ont, and take possession OF
my property. You softened me, Wei
lington, by the way that you received
me- YOU. and your wife. and that blessed
child. Still, was irresolute. Unable
to sleep. went out in the moonlight,
and visited all the dear old familiar
places on the farm; and saw the graves
of your dead Then | was decided
my heart was not hard enough to
disturb you. meant to 60 IN peace,
and leave you unmolested. y
Wellington Seymour was completely
unnamed. The tears flowed freely
down his face as he held his brother S
hands.
You might have come back and lived
with us, he said
~ on don know me. brother" said
the dying man. IL ran away from you
this morning because did not wish to
injure you. | am a vicious being, dis
solute past all hope of reformation; and
do you think | could come and cloud
the happiness of such home as yours
God will be mercful TO me, brother.
He is calling me to better home"
For moment he lay silent, with his
eyes closed. Wellington still held his
hands. and sat by him. too full for
words.
You know the chestnut tree, Welly?'
said the tramp. opening his eyes. Yes,
of course; we've dubbed it many a
time. Last night saw it. and though,
that some time I should like to rest
under it. The time has come sooner